


Of Rubble And Ruins

by PeopleInThatBackRoom



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Friendship, Hetalia, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeopleInThatBackRoom/pseuds/PeopleInThatBackRoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this world... This world, that has changed. Most say for the better, though only a few know the truth; the truth they have been hiding all these eons. This isn't real, they aren't real. It's all an illusion, a perfect lie that was made to fool us all. But, there are many; they are strong, they know the truth, they know how to identify the liars. Those, they struggle in one thing... to survive... So be careful where you stand, or you might be shaking hands with the bane of all existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Guanettríco is a city with two sides.

One is called Tríco, meaning Prospering House. While the other is called Guanet, meaning Abandon Soul. In Tríco, everything is beatiful. The colors, the lights. Everything is rich, including the people. In Guanet, it's opposite. It's a dull gray almost everyday, though an invisible sun still lingers. The people who live there are few, since even the old, sick and poor wouldn't dream of stepping foot there.

For Ivan Braginski, he wouldn't dream of being anywhere else.

Since, he  _knows_.

He found out a while ago, in his second year of high school. Something was odd about the people, something was odd about the town. Something was wrong.

He had just arrived to his home where his mother, father and two sisters were waitng for him. They seemed completely normal, acting the same way he would expect them to act. Doing the same things he would expect them to do... He didn't know the exact time he found out, but somehow he figured out something was terribly wrong. That evening, he packed all the things he would need in his backpack to leave. Things like his: books, cell phone, money and some clothes. He also took his pocket knife and the scarf his older sister had made for him years ago. As his family began to wash up for dinner, he made a simple excuse, saying he was going to spend the night at a friend's house. Of course, this worked, and tell told him to be back in the morning. He ran down the stairs, and before he left, took all the kitchen knifes and carefully put them in his backpack. After he made it outside the house, he casually walked out the neighborhood, knowing he was being watched at all angles. When he made it to the main room, he pretended to be going somewhere until it became dark. That's when he starting running. He didn't stop and now he didn't care who saw him, since they couldn't who he was. He kept running till he couldn't run any longer, finding himself by an dull, old set of bulidings, that contrasted with the new and beautiful ones of Tríco. Surveying the bulidings, he finally settle with hiding in one of the smallest, most dull and old looking of the bulidings. After trying to pick the lock for almost a minute, he finally got the door to open. He locked it behind him, just in case anyone was following, and began to explore.

"Shit..." he muttered. He had forgotten to bring a flashlight, though some parts of the buliding were lit up by the moonlight. Looking through his bag, he found two packs of matches, which he was grateful his parents hadn't found. Striking one of the matches, he was able to get a quick glimpse of the old buliding, that proved to be useful. Fifteen used later matches later, he located a box full of scented candles, and tried his best to stuff as many in his backpack as he could. With a candle to light up his path way, he saw that the buliding had a series of floors, all containing apartment complexes. Waves of paranoia hit him, saying it wouldn't be safe on any of the top floors, and so he decended lower and lower, until he reached basement level, where most of all the doors were made from a strong steel. And lots of the suplies were stored. He picked a room on the left of a long hallway. He picked the lock and found himself in a prison cell looking room. With no windows whatsoever. For him, it was better that way. It would be hard for anyone to find him. He put his things down and laid on the cheap-looking bed, that felt the way it looked. He couldn't help but feel wide open, that something could get him any moment. He couldn't shake the feeling away, and his thoughts only made everything worst.

_What if they find out? What will you do? Where will you go? They might find you! What will happen if they find you? If they get you! You're doomed! You're doomed! They're going to find you! They're going to take you away!_

"Shut...shut up!" he said aloud to his thoughts. They didn't stop, but they did become quieter. The teenage boy could only sigh. He was worried, but at the same time he knew this was the right thing to do. There was no time for questioning, right? No time for missing people who aren't real, right? No time for missing a lie, right? No time for thinking about his 'family'...right?

He...he had made the right choice. H-he couldn't have stayed there. T-this was his new home. He had to live with his decision. There was no turning back...right?

Ivan fell into a restless sleep, the only real sleep he would have for days, and weeks and months, and eventually, years.

Ivan Braginski woke up from his 'rest' of three whole minutes. He got up a took out his pipe —something he had picked up in his many months of being in this tiny apartment. He surveyed the room, alert to any noise he heard. When he could find nothing, he silently made it to the bathroom, where he looked in the damaged, partly cracked, cheap mirror, which informed him that his hair was now neck length. He inwardly shruged it off, and began brushing his teeth with a toothbrush he made himself. After spitting out gunks of multiple things into the sink, he heard a noise.

_"Ivan! It's us! Please let us in! Ivan!"_

He shook his head and the noise stopped. It wasn't them, they weren't themselves, it was just a figure of his imagination. They couldn't have found him. It wasn't possible.

_"Ivan! It's been so long! Please let us in!"_

"No! Stop! Go away! Go away! Leave me alone! Get out of my head!" he screamed.

They  **couldn't** be here. It  **wasn't**  possible.

The voices continued, stating precious memories of Ivan's past and asking to come in. The almost eighteen year old was reduced to getting on his kness and covering his ears, trying to shut out the voices. He stayed like that for almost fifteen minutes. When the voices finally stopped, he sat down on the bathroom floor, clutching his legs close to his chest, burying himself in his scarf, the only thing he had left of his real family. He felt tears bubbling up in his chest, but he couldn't cry. It would only hurt him futher, giving the voices another plan to use against him. He in the bathroom for most of the day, rocking back and forth, telling himself everything was going to be okay, when he heard a voice.

"Hello! Help! Someone! Please!  _They're_  after me!  _They_  took my friends! Help! Someone!  _They're_ coming to get me! Someone...please help me.." was what the voice said. At first Ivan thought it was fake, but when he heard pounding on the door, he knew something was out there. For the first few minutes, a war was going on in Ivan's mind, debating whether or not he should open the door.

 _It could be them, disguising themselves in the form of someone they had taken._ One part of his mind thought.

 _Or it could be another like him, running from the same enemy._  Thought the other part.

Whatever they thought, it was Ivan's choice. A choice he couldn't regret. He made his way out the bathroom, walked towards the door leading to the outside, and opened it...


	2. Chapter Two

This was it...

At least, that was what Ivan told himself as he opened the door, instantly regretting what he had done.

Ivan stood by the door, his eyes closed, waiting for death to overtake him, but...

Death never came.

Instead, a small cough caught his attention, making his mind scream with the fact that he could get away, he could still run or destroy whatever was in front of his door. Though, when he opened his eyes, everything was different and hard to take in.

There was a boy, about sixteen, standing in front of his door. The boy had acid green eyes and a type of dirty-blonde hair. He also had strangely large eyebrows. They stood there, staring at each other for a while, until Ivan, —who was very shocked at the moment— shut the door on the boy, breathing frantically at what had just taken place. He was taken out of his shock daze by a small knock on the door. Scared and not able to think properly, Ivan opened the door, still expecting death to come and take him away, but like the first time, death decided not to come. The boy, was still there, however. Neither spoke a word, but their facial expressions were able to speak for them. Ivan stepped for in front of the door, letting the boy enter, and afterwards, shuting and locking the door behind them. Both seemed so accustom to the lack of noise that the two almost jumped when they heard the small dripping noise coming from Ivan's bathroom. Ivan, as much as he wanted to speak, then run and hide, he sat very still on the cold floor, staring at the other boy as he waited for a explanation.

"I-i-i, don't know what to tell you. Other than, my family and friends aren't real, at least, that's how it seems. They did everything I would expect them to do, but everything seemed off. I ignored it for the first few weeks, but by each pasting day, my suspicions grew higher and higher, and were finally broken by what happened yesterday. I-i, had been at school and I noticed how grim some of my friends were, especially my two closest ones, who's names were Alfred F. Jones and Francis Bonnefoy. When we had parted for our seperate classes, I followed them, and found them going into the teacher's lounge with Ms Lili, who had a rather strange look on her face —a sadistic one, if you're wondering. When they entered the room, the door was shut locked behind them, but I still heard and remember the exact words they said.

"You two have got to step it up!" Lili screamed at the boys.

"We're trying, but..." Alfred drifted off, giving Lili the opportunity to scream again.

"You're  _trying_? You're trying! There are no 'buts' when you're under  _their_ authority, Alfred!"

"I-i-i..." Alfred tried to say, though, the words wouldn't come out.

"No, there are no buts. Either way, Arthur really is our friend, and we'll stick by him, no matter what." Francis said, speaking for the first time since they had entered the room.

"Defiance, eh? Let's see how defiant you two are when  _they_  come to get you, and  **replace you**!" Lili shouted, cackling afterwards.

Everything else that was heard was maniac laughter and screams of my friends. It became more strange when my parents said my best friends were moving. I pretended for them, —with shock and sadness, as one would think— but as soon as I got to my room, I began to pack my things to leave. It wasn't easy to make an excuse, since I couldn't go visit my best friends —wherever they were and are— so, I waited until night fall. I grabbed my belongings, broke the window in the front of the house, jumped out and went on my way, avoiding every person I saw." the teenage boy finished, a little drained from explaining. Ivan, on the other hand, was amazed and perplexed about what had happened. It was by chance that the boy had come here, and it was by chance, that the boy was like him. In the world, but just finding out the truth, as if all those years you lived didn't count. Ivan's suspicions were still there, but they reduced to a small fragement. Before he could say anything, Ivan had to think. Think about what he was going to say and why he was going to say it, since doing anything rash is as good as dying.

"Y-you can stay." Ivan stated quickly.

"Huh?" the teenage boy questioned, for he wasn't able to understand Ivan.

"You can stay here, with me, if you'd like." Ivan said slowly, hoping he wasn't falling into the enemies' trap.

"Really?" the boy asked, to which Ivan nodded. The boy gave him a small smile, —though it was layered with a hint of fear. Silence overtook the room, until the boy decided to make coversation.

"What's your name?"

"What?"

"I said, 'what's your name?' like, my name is Arthur Kirkland, what's yours?" the boy asked, adding more detail to his statement.

"Ivan Braginski." Ivan answered. He felt like he was laid out bare in front of the stranger, though he had only told him his name. His mind was mocking him of the memory of a time that he'd freely give out his name, smiling and laughing happily like others, unconcerned and unconcious of the lies and danger around him. Now that he was, he almost wished he had never found out the truth.

Almost.

"How old are you?" Arthur asked, bringing Ivan's thinking to an end. Ivan looked at the acid-green eyed male with suspicion and distrust, earning himself a confused look from the other male.

"Okay, I see how this will go. How about, I tell you about me first, then you tell me about you. Though it won't be anything  _too personal_ , alright?" Arthur tried to reasure, in a calm voice. Ivan nodded, the suspicion and distrust slightly leaving him.

"I'm sixteen, but I'll be turning seventeen in a few," Arthur stated, with his eyes, gesturing Ivan to  _take his turn_. Ivan sighed but proceeded to 'spill the information'.

"I'm seventeen, but I'll be e-eighteen this year. I know because I've been keeping track of how long it's been since I..." Ivan drifted off, leaving Arthur 'on the edge of his seat'.

"You what?" Arthur asked out of pure curiousity, but then guessed what the taller male meant and added "Since you left Tríco, right?"

Let's just say, Ivan was inwardly panicking at the younger male's very words.

_H-how? And why d-did he make that so easy to figure out? Why was he such an idiot, giving out all that information without a care in the world. He had too remember that the world wasn't the same as it had been.._

_At least, not in his eyes._

"Ivan? Are you okay?" Arthur questioned, taking Ivan out his paranoid-based thoughts.

"Да," Ivan replied without a second thought.

"You speak Russian?" Arthur asked, to which Ivan nodded.

"I can teach you," Ivan stated. "I mean, if you'd like" he added, not wanting to force the other male to do something he didn't want.

"I'd like that," was Arthur answer. He then made an excuse to start the lessons right away, desperate to learn more about this 'Ivan Braginski', and maybe even...

Become friends.


	3. Chapter Three

Over the past few months, —at least, that's what they thought, though it could have been longer— Ivan and Arthur got along rather well. If one counted the fact that most of the time, they either walked, or laid, or thought, in an almost everlasting silence.

And when one of them did speak, they only talked in short, to the point sentences.

Or at least, it was like that, until today.

"Ivan," Arthur said, looking to see if the taller male was paying attention. "Do, you think, we'll ever leave this building?" he asked, waiting for Ivan's response.

"No," the taller male answered, quickly adding, "I d-don't know, okay." trying not to make his first 'companion' in years, sad.

"I guess you're right." Arthur agreed, letting silence overtake the atmosphere once more. In the silence, guilt started to work on Ivan, causing him to feel bad for what he said.

"I m-mean, if you want, we can try to leave the building, but it'll have to be in the night, okay?"

"Okay. Fine by me." Arthur replied, trying to hide the excitement that was bubbling up in his chest. It sounded dangerous and wonderful all at once. To the point that even Ivan couldn't help but grin a half second to the thought.

 _Actually going outside_? Ivan shook his head to keep himself from smiling any wider.  _I must be going crazy_.

"A good crazy, then."

"H-huh? How did you..?"

"You sometimes voice your inner thought aloud, y'know," Arthur explained, to which Ivan found himself blushing to. "But that's okay. It's rather cute when you do it."

"U-uh?" Ivan's brain was now frozen from his comrade's words. Him? Cute? The only person who called him that was his mom, and she was just teasing him. Maybe it's what friends do? He didn't know, but now he knew not to be too shy of it. He guessed.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Over-analyze things?"

"Um," he didn't actually know. He just...did. "I, uh, habit."

"Oh." the acid-green eyed male rubbed the back of the his neck sheepishly. Why hadn't he thought of that being the answer to his question?

"That's okay," the taller of the two smiled. "But, since we are going out at night, I suggest that we take turns being on watch while one of us sleeps. I have a feeling it will be a long night."

"You're right." Arthur agreed. He offered to take up the first watch —he knew that secretly Ivan never slept when he was taking the night watch— for the first few minutes of it, he stared at Ivan, who flush a pale pink every once in a while when their eyes met. It was weird for the taller male to have something watching over him, actually trying to make sure that he slept, let alone have someone live with him. But, before he knew it, his eyes began to droop, and minutes later he was fast asleep.

What seemed like ages later, the teen was awakened by a slight nudge from his companion, and bolted up immediately, thinking something must have gone wrong, though Arthur only beckoned him to put on his shoes and a light jacket, just in case.

"Something wrong?"

"H-huh? Нет, I just...Um. Nothing."

Arthur laughed softly. "Okay, Ivan. When you're ready to tell me it's "something", I'll be waiting."

Ivan's face became pink once more, and Arthur smiled, equipped, and already ready to head out. Ivan, now fully awake, quickly put on his ages old shoes, and headed directly towards the door with Arthur —Ivan, being Ivan, was almost cold all the time, and always slept in his giant winter coat given to him by he now pasted Uncle, General Winter, and his pale and almost faded pink scarf, given to him by his sister— taking a deep and shaky breathe as he touched the lock.

"The first time." he breathed out, his heart pounding violently inside his chest.

"Second." Arthur said, trying to restore courage to his friend. "To open the door."

"Да," Ivan agreed. Though Arthur could barely hear him, and the sound of the knob now turning wasn't helping him either. It did send shivers of both terror and glee down his spine. Finally coming out this place, but not knowing the dangers that lied in wait outside, one in their position would swear to themselves, was probably the only excitement they would need for a long while.

Though, it seemed to both the teens that this certainly wasn't about to be their "last time" outside this door. No indeed.

It was dark outside the door, and the only light they could see looked rather distant or none whatsoever. Even as they continued walking down the dark halls they immediately decided it to be night, which, in its own way, could be a blessing and a curse all at once. They crept along, as silent as ever, not trusting the dark-covered building for a second. Nor the things that could be lurking inside it.

Halfway through the dark building, Arthur placed his hand on his companion's shoulder as they began to turn around the corner. "Ivan, are you okay?"

"Да, I believe so." Ivan whispered, his heart threatening to burst out his chest, but his looks as calm as looks could get.

"I-If you ever get...uncomfortable, just say something and we can turn back." Arthur remarked, not giving up on any possibility.

Ivan smiled softly. "I am okay, comrade. But, I will take your word on the offer, да?"

"Deal." Arthur replied. Soon, they were at the very front of the building, about to open the door which would lead them back to the world they once did know. Both took deep breaths. It was now or never.

So, they opened the doors and walked outside.

 _It was cold_. Ivan mused as the sharp, icy wind hit his face. He turned to Arthur, who he found was looking right at him as he was to him. They both grinned at this factor and still carefully and quietly, continued on out of the area, stopping at any sign of noise —altogether, they didn't have to stop much, seeing that Guanet was almost completely abandoned of life, with animals as well as humans included— that crossed their way. It seemed like forever that they were in the cool air, walking. Ivan counted it as three hours and twenty minutes to himself.

 _Running, for your life would render it "no time at all" until you finally stopped and took a break_. Ivan mused.

"And how true that is," Arthur agreed with Ivan, who shot him a puzzled look. "You were voicing your thoughts aloud again, I suppose."

"Yeah," Ivan said. "Probably."

The two, now freezing-to-death, teens spotted a most extraordinary light in the distance, and slowed down their pace, keep more to the left than just staying straight in the middle. The light grew as they came closer, and showed itself to be not just one, but many lights, all of different colors, shapes and sizes, merging together with looked at from afar. Though it was night, many were outside. Laughing, talking, singing, dancing, none having a care in the world. All feeling merry and safe within the beautiful city, as if nothing could go wrong.

Tríco.

It was...beautiful, and the two were in awe at the bright, exotic, lights of the city, having not seen anything of the sort for a long while. They were lighten a bit in their hearts and minds when they saw how cheerful the city's people were. And it very much tempted them to come out the dark streets and narrow alleys they hid in while observing the light parts of the city. But, they _knew_.

It hurt Ivan much to think of it, but it was just a lie. A big, beautiful lie covered by the splendor of the city, and the well-being of the people. Bad things still lurked in the shadows, but here, they as well lurked out in the open, in many forms, being the people you called "family", or "friend", "spouse", "teacher". Anyone. But, you wouldn't know. Not until it was too late, of course.

"Ivan."

"Hmm?"

"Are, you okay?"

"Yes. I...I just, can't help think how lucky we were, to find out before it was too late." his facial expression was serious, and it told Arthur all he needed to know. He too, realized how close they were to...

 _To what_?

"Yeah."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'm okay," he blushed. " _I_  was just worried about you."

"Well, I'm fine, so, we can continue, да?"

"Of course." Arthur agreed. Though, now his own mind was churning. What exactly did they escape? He knew they escaped a horrible fate. His friends' "speech" against Ms. Lilli told him that very clearly. But, what could be so evil? Whatever it was, he trusted his decision. And, he trusted Ivan. Even if they couldn't set things right in the end, at least they could help each other, and maybe others who become lucky as well. Their silent observant journey was halted and they entered a less lit up part of the city, one that was also much quieter. Or at least, was.

"S-stop!" someone cried out. It startled both males, who though, were "safe" in the shadows, they could help but shiver at the pure fear in the voice.

"Sorry, but it's orders," another voice replied. "You know this as well as I do. Now sir, please move out the way."

"N-No! Y-you can't!" the man sobbed.

"You know as well as I do, that I have too, so move." the guff voice commanded.

"I'll go! I'll take his place! J-just —Don't!"

"Mr. Tino, please, move."

"No! I love these children like my own! You will not take anyone of them! Never!" the man cried, trying desperately to make the other person listen to his plead. By this time, the two teens were able to see what was going on while still being hidden from view. They saw two men, one in a uniform, and the other in a large, light-gray tee-shirt and plaid, blue pajama bottoms. The man is the uniform was trying to get past the man called Tino, who was blocking the doorway to his house. Arthur felt terrible for the 'night-clothes' wearing male. Ivan did too, but he also felt anger against the cruel man trying to force his way into that house. He couldn't just sit back and watch as something horrible happened!

"I-Ivan?" Arthur stammered in shock. Though, Ivan couldn't hear him, his anger blocking out any sense of reason as he silently crept towards the two men, and in a flash he came up behind the man clad in uniform and punched him hard, making the man redirect his attention to Ivan.

"W-what-" was all the man was able to say before another punch was delivered, and yet another, until he was knocked out.

Tino looked at the teen in fear. "W-who are you?"

"Nobody." was the answer given. Ivan began to drag the body to another area, when Tino laid a hand on the tall teen's shoulder, slightly making Ivan tense.

"T-thank you," the man stuttered. "But, it's okay, I can take care of him myself."

Ivan nodded understandingly, and Arthur, who had stayed in the shadows all this time, worrying, finally ran out to where Ivan was and...and he, "scolded" him. Much to Ivan and Tino's surprise.

"Bloody hell, Ivan! I mean, did you see what you just did there? We could've gotten caught! We could've been surrounded! You better be grateful that other man isn't sounding any alarm! I'm serious, Ivan, I really am! You didn't have to risk everything: getting caught, and captured, and tortured!"

"Arthur," Ivan smiled.

"Yes?"

"But, we haven't."

Arthur flushed pink. "W-well, yeah. We haven't. And yes, it was pretty cool when you beat the shite out of that guy."

"Да, but, you are right as well. And because of that, we must leave. Now."

"Wait! W-what about...you know." he gestured to Tino.

"He has seen what I can do, so I'm sure he will be glad we are not foes, hmm?"

"Y-yes," Tino stuttered. "Of course!"

"Well then, let's go, Arthur."

And the two went off. Going in and out the passages and alleys, staying hidden from the people as before, and carefully leaving the beautiful city, both feeling as if something was accomplished.

It was actually much later than they thought when they arrived 'home'. Though, they were both too excited and gleeful in a sense, too be tired. So, they both stayed up, smiling quietly in the darkness. And neither disliked this darkness.

For it was one of peace.


	4. Chapter Four

The excitement didn't die down for a while. And during this time, a discovery was made.

 _It_  was a hidden passage, that laid right under their noses —well, technically under Arthur's 'bed' (if you could call the ancient cot that)— and was unveiled to them not four days after their venture to Tríco.

"Ivan."

"Hmm?" Ivan answered, lazily looking up at the ceiling.

"What do you think the building used to look like?"

Ivan sat up and turned to face the Brit. "I don't know. Beautiful, maybe."

Arthur smiled. "You believe that?"

Ivan shrugged. Anything was believable when you hardly knew about the subject at hand.

"Look," Arthur said, going towards his 'bed'. "I see something under there. Hey Ivan, do you think the old cot'll make too much noise if I drag it from this spot?"

"Not really. But, I'm guessing. Even so, it seems that on this level, there is only us, so go ahead."

"Ivan!" Arthur shouted, not caring if he was alerting any enemies. For, at the moment, he was dangling in a big hole in the floor, right on the spot where he thought he saw something. His hands were holding on to the other floor boards for his life, and his heart was panicking fiercely. It didn't matter if he caught anyone else's attention, because Ivan had gotten up and made his way to where the Brit was holding on for his dear life, quickly getting on his knees and reaching out to his equally wide-eyed companion.

"Hold on," Ivan was panicking. Arthur couldn't die! Not now, not today. He couldn't! "I've got you."

"Shite, shite, shite, shite, shite." Arthur muttered as he reached for Ivan's hand, missing. He tried again, and this time, he caught Ivan's extended hand. He was pulled up, heart pounding wildly at the thought of almost falling through that hole. Breathless, he laid on the floor next to his sitting friend, thanking Ivan and every deity he knew that he was alive.

"You okay?" Ivan asked after a few seconds went by.

"Oh  _fuck_ ," Arthur grinned, his heart still on edge. "If that's isn't an understatement, I don't know what is."

They laughed at Arthur's good-natured sarcasm, though both thought quietly in their heads that, that was a close one. Really close.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, uh, nothing."

"You sure," Arthur grinned teasingly. "Because for the past minute you've been wearing a rather 'seriously-in-thought' expression on your face, while staring at the hole."

Ivan jokingly raised his hands in surrender. "Okay you've caught me."

"Don't I always."

"Да, you do," when their eyes met they both laughed at the silliness of their joking tones. "You're right, you know. I was thinking about what could have been in that hole, and what is in there presently. Though, it's obviously too dangerous to find out."

"Who says?"

"You almost fell in there not five minutes ago, but you're already to go down there?"

"Yes, I am." Arthur said. Ivan rolled his eyes at his friend's daredevil-like attitude. Was there nothing the Brit couldn't do?

 _No_. He decided.  _Not if Arthur set his mind to it_.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door closing. He immediately sprang up, rushing over to where his knives were, ready to stab the intruder to pieces. He quickly spun around and came face to face with...

Arthur?

His mouth was agape, and the knife was put back inside his backpack. "Damn, Arthur, if you're going somewhere, at least let me know so I don't kill you on accident."

Arthur snorted. "As if, Ivan."

The Russian raised his eyebrows. "Hmm?

"You'd know it was me."

Now it was Ivan's turn to snort. "How would  _you_  know."

"Oh, I know. I just know," Arthur then showed Ivan what was in his hands. "Look, I found some good, sturdy rope. We can use it to go down that hole."

"Now?"

"Yes, now," Arthur said. "Come along Ivan, we've got to find out what's in there some day, and better sooner than later."

He was probably right. But there was no way Ivan was going to admit that. "Fine." Ivan said, following Arthur to where the hole was. They looked around the room to find a place they could tie the very long, and surprisingly strong rope on, and had settle on stacking the cots on each other, then tying the rope to them. They checked the rope a few times before Arthur firmly decided that he was finally going down —as much as Ivan objected— and holding on tightly to the rope, down he went, into the darkness until Ivan could no longer see him, though he could still hear his voice.

"You coming or what?"

Ivan smiled at his friend's headstrong words, but he did, as his friend, go down, down into the darkness. Halfway down, he mentally hit himself for not bringing down any candles or light of any kind. Though it seemed as if his friend had read his thoughts, and was striking a match right then and there.

"Bloody hell, and tartar sauce! It's huge down here, Ivan!"

It was. Evidently, Arthur had found some candles, and with the light they brought, Ivan could what Arthur had saw. The room was wide, wider than any room Ivan had seen in this building —though he supposed that didn't count for much— it looked ancient, but rather grand, in its only strange way. There were many chairs and a few tables every now and there. Arthur was about to mess with the light switch but Ivan wouldn't hear of it. One bit of light, and they'd probably be surrounded forty-five minutes flat. So, Arthur set the candle on a old, and a bit molded, plate he saw on one of the table.

Arthur lit another candled a handed it to the taller male. "Ivan, if you find anymore plates, bring them here, will you."

Ivan nodded, and began gathering up the ancient and slightly molded plates, bringing them back to Arthur, who was lighting candles and placing them on plates that had been placed on the small table. Soon, they had some decent light.

"Ivan, what do you think this room was used for?"

"It's doesn't look like a place for eating, though it doesn't exactly look like an office."

"A lab then?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Security room?"

"Possibly."

Arthur smiled at him and shook his head, but said nothing.

"Either way, —when we get back up the hole— we could cover the hole for now, and maybe explore it later on, okay."

"Sure," Arthur agreed. "But only if we get to explore the rest of the place."

"What do you mean?" Ivan didn't even need to ask that question. He knew exactly what Arthur meant.

"The rest of the building is ripe for exploring —we both know it— and a chance like this might never come again, Ivan."

Ivan sighed, but nodded. "Fine. J-just, can we leave this room now?"

He yawned sleepily afterwards, and began climbing the rope. Arthur smiled at Ivan's yawn, and began climbing up after him. Very soon the two were back in their room.

"You'll enjoy it," Arthur said. "You'll see."

Ivan laid down on his cot, and groaned at Arthur's words.

Arthur just laughed.

That night, in the almost ever-lingering darkness, Ivan laid awake —at least, he seemed awake— his thoughts prohibiting him from sleeping. Thoughts, he hadn't had in a long while.

 _Doubt_ : It was there —alive and kicking— as it always had been. Though, with every waking moment of these past few months, he had been occupied with Arthur.

 _And_  what Arthur liked, what he disliked, what he brought up, and what he was too embarrassed to say.

He had been occupied by his friend. A very good thing indeed, but...

Now that the Brit was asleep, Ivan's thoughts tormented him.

" _You're alone._ " They said.  _You're always alone, and you're still alone. That's all you'll ever be_.

 _No_. He always protested. Arthur was his friend. His comrade.

But, was he so sure? Would this last? Would Arthur be hauled away like every other good thing in his life? Would they be found? Caught? Killed? Would he finally become mad?

 _"Ivan. Ivan... Ivan! Come back! Let us in! Ivan! Ivan!_ "

Before he knew it, he began murmuring aloud. "No! No, stop! Go away! Leave!  _Go_!"

Now, he felt his face become wet. Tears? He could of laughed at this childish act in a second. Him —crying? Not possible. Not in a million years, but still...

That didn't seem to stop the liquid from spilling from his eyes now.

And he wanted to scream, curse and maybe even let some more tears spill, but something —a hand? Or an angel? Or somewhat like that— touched him —calmed him down— until his breathing was steady again, and the tears stop flowing like a flood. The occasion sniffle came up, but it was that... _magic_  touch that helped him. It really helped.

 _It_  was Arthur.

The Brit had been awaken by a feeble noise in the back of his head. He turned onto his left side and found that the noise was coming from Ivan, who, though, murmuring in between a few sobs, was asleep. He quietly crept out the bed, careful not to wake his sleeping, distressed friend, and walked over to where Ivan's ancient cot laid. The Russian's breathing was a bit heavy, which told Arthur this must have been something rather grave —he already thought something was wrong since he'd never seen Ivan cry. Not even when talking about death, or life, or things in the past (of the few things Ivan told him about his past, of course)— that had probably been building itself up for a while. Lingering in the corners of his friend's mind. Though, despite himself, the now seventeen year old found himself wondering what  _had_  erupted in Ivan's mind. He, for one, had no clue, and knew he shouldn't push Ivan for answers, but his curiosity wasn't helping.

Still, there was  _no way_  he'd go and ask Ivan. Sure they were friends, but, if there was one thing friends —especially guy friends— didn't do, it was ask personal questions of this...sort.

The next morning, Arthur had decided to try and be easy on Ivan. It wasn't pity, just concern and cautiousness. He didn't want to trigger anything that would make Ivan remember whatever it was that brought the taller male to tears. Still, his mind kept plaguing him by wondering: What did bring Ivan to that stage of breaking down?

 _Oh, shut up_. Arthur told himself, now thoroughly annoyed with his foolish questions. Luckily, Ivan came out the bathroom and took him from his thoughts with a single word.

"Arthur." Ivan said. as he came out the bathroom, his face still wet from washing it.

"Yes." Arthur replied. He was sitting on the floor, reading the only thing he hadn't brought on purpose:  _Detectives In Togas_. It was a rather old book, given to him on his eighth birthday by both Alfred and Francis, who had finally saved up enough money —with some nagging and lecturing towards Alfred about saving money on Francis' part— to get him it. He had so happy that day. Happy enough that he did something 'out of character' and tackled them into a squeezing hug.

Ivan had a rather thoughtful look on his face. "Let's go."

Arthur stopped trying to read and looked up at Ivan. "What?"

"Let's go do what you said." Ivan replied. He thought, unlike Arthur, that it would be best not to 'take things easy'. To stay distracted and keep the horrid thoughts at bay. He knew he probably was puzzling his friend by his sudden brave, and quite recklessly venturous behavior, but it didn't matter at the moment. He needed something to occupy his time. And quickly, before his friend begins to suspect something was wrong. He didn't need to make his friend concerned or somewhat like that for no reason. He could deal with his problems on his own. He just needed...

"What I said about exploring?" Arthur said knowingly. It brought Ivan back to where they were. Back to this world, time, and place. Where he would be taking a big, risky step.

But...was it worth it?

He didn't know. Either way, he found himself saying: "Yes —let's go exploring."

"Okay," Arthur said. He knew he should've protested a bit, but he couldn't help himself. It was selfish. Yes. But, He really wanted to explore the building. He  _really_  did. "Now?"

"Now." Ivan answered. And, taking a few of Ivan's knives with them, they opened the door, and headed out.

It wasn't as dark as it was in their room, and they were actually able to make out many shapes and sizes. From this, they knew it must be morning, or afternoon, at the least. Arthur immediately began trying to get into doors, and found that the few opened so far were supply closets, and some storage rooms. Ivan picked the locks to the ones that wouldn't open, and they happened to be worth the breaking in. In one room, there were two nice sized mattresses —that surprisingly weren't broken old worn out from age or previous use— a few sheets, five used-looking pillows, and lots of packs of...socks?

"These will be useful." Arthur said, picking up a pack of socks and grinning rather sarcastically. Ivan laughed softly.

"So will the mattresses, sheets, and pillow, you know." the taller of the two answered.

"I know." Arthur said, throwing the pack of socks to Ivan, who caught them easily. "Hey Ivan."

"Yes?"

"Well um," Arthur started off. "Never mind. I'll tell you later."

"Okay." Ivan said. He grew curious at this uneasiness from the acid-green eyed male, but held his tongue.

"Let's just explore this floor for now, okay?"

"Arthur," Ivan began to tease. "Has something brought a damper on your adventurous spirit? Was it the socks?"

Arthur gave in and smiled. "No, Ivan...but," Ivan stared curiously at him. "It's nothing. I just...think it might be better to explore one floor today, and see what we could accomplish with the things we've found on it."

"Okay," Ivan said. Though, now he had a sort of sinking feeling in his stomach. What was Arthur hiding? "That sounds reasonable."

"Well, I  _did_  think about it myself."

"Yes, Arthur. Truly  _you_  are the wisest of all."

"Yes, yes, I know. But, don't bring yourself down about it."

Ivan smiled and shook his head.

And Arthur laughed.


	5. Chapter Five

It was hours before they had thoroughly explored the basement-level floor. They found many useful things. Such as flashlights, toothbrushes, toothpaste, canned goods (though they deeded those might be expired), towels and shampoo. Though, with all the supplies they had found, two questions still stood: What were they going to with it? And where were they going to store it?

"We could spread out a bit, right," Arthur suggested. "It couldn't be that bad."

"I don't know, Arthur." the taller of two replied. And he didn't know. Even if they expanded their base the tiniest bit, they would have a higher risk of being caught while walking in the hallway in between them. Arthur's idea really did sound great on the surface, but what about the minor details in the cracks? What happens when the cracks are breached and they grow too big to repair them? What will they do then?

"Well," Arthur interrupted his thoughts. "If you say no—couldn't we still just organize this? Just in case?"

Ivan attempted to make a comment, but quickly shut his mouth, and only nodded.

Arthur always found loopholes—somehow. Apparently.

And after they had fixed the room to their hearts' desire, they left it and headed back to their original base, where Ivan promptly sat down on his ancient cot, then laid back on its not-very-comfortable surface. Arthur sat on his own cot, not bothering to lie down as his friend did. He too, however, was bored (and a little worn out from lifting, 'cleaning' and many of things that could be described as organizing), but instead was trying to find a solution.

And find one, he did.

"Hey, Ivan. Let's play trivia, shall we?"

Well, he  _thought_  so—but, to each their own.

Ivan, bored to tears as well, accepted without questions. "Okay."

"When's my birthday?" Arthur asked.

"In April? April 23rd?"

"Yeah. Your turn."

"When's mine."

"December 30th."

Ivan smiled. "Ha, you answered that quickly."

"I know," he grinned. "What's my favorite color?"

"Red?" Ivan guessed.

"Green. Well, no—I actually have two, red and green. So, I guess you're right."

"What's mine?"

"Are you just recycling my questions?" Arthur jabbed playfully.

"Maybe." the taller man answered, his laughter threatening to burst out the corners of his smiling mouth.

"Um, creamy white or light gray?"

"Purple."

"Really?"

"Да."

"Oh, well. That was unexpected—for me, of course."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Surprisingly I'm  _wise,_ but not too clever on trivial subjects such as you are." Arthur fake frowned. It didn't last to long, as his frown then turn into a smirk—which itself, became a snort of amusement. —

"What do I say in my sleep?"

"I can cook— _something similar_  to that."

" _Sure._  I  _believe_  you."

"What do I do when I think no ones looking?"

"I dunno, cry?" Arthur snickered a bit outwardly, but on the inside, he was nervous about Ivan's reaction.

"Really? You think I cry?"

"Well, I've never  _seen_  you cry, so you must do it while I'm not paying attention or something of that sort."

"Maybe," Ivan replied. "Maybe."

The awkward silence that came after practically threatened Arthur to tell what he had seen—he didn't, of course. He was so close, so close to telling Ivan something that, he felt was wrong for him to say on so many levels. Still, they couldn't exactly go on with the trivia game Arthur had suggested. There wasn't much the two knew about each other in the first place.

 _But, it's hard to ask questions. Questions guard the heart and mind._  Arthur thought. This, didn't cease the growing uncomfortable quietness in the room, and with a barely heard sigh, Arthur did what he had vowed he wouldn't do: start breaking the barriers surrounding them.

The shorter male faked a cough. "Hey, Ivan."

"You called?" the taller of the two answered.

"Well, yes I—I think we should ask some questions and shite like that...I guess. Because, I've run out of trivia to do."

Ivan hesitated in his answer, but gave it nevertheless. "...fine."

"But, let's not if you don't want to." the acid-green eyed teen said hastily.

At this, the pale ashen blond haired teen shook his head. "I'm fine, Arthur."

"Okay, Ivan. Um—favorite ice cream?"

"Strawberry. What about you?"

"Lime," Arthur remarked. "-if you're starting to think of a British joke, don't even to use it."

"I wasn't Arthur, honest," Ivan smiled. "What's your favorite number?"

"Four. Yours?"

"Sixteen."

"What the first thing you wanted for Christmas this year?"

"Soap."

Arthur snorted. "Haha. I wanted toilet paper."

"What did you want for your birthday this year?"

"Scissors. Using your knife to cut hair isn't exactly safe. What about you?"

"My birthday has yet to come. So, I think it would not be appropriate to answer, yes?."

"Probably. Then I'll have a standard to follow."

"How many siblings do you have, Arthur?"

"Me? I...I have five. Three older brothers, and two younger ones."

"Interesting," he said, (to which the Brit rolled his eyes). "I have two sisters. One older and one younger."

"Well, what was your favorite subject at school?"

"Nothing," the taller of the two replied. "I learned all my favorite things outside of school."

"Like what?"

"That's  _two_  questions, you know."

"You're right—but, it wouldn't hurt to answer the question anyway, right?" Arthur shrugged.

"Maybe."

"Fine. Ask me a question first then."

"What's your favorite season?"

"Fall."

"Hmm," Ivan seemed to be in a daze of some sort now. "Mine is summer. But now, it seems it's always too cold to ever come anymore," he laughed bitterly. "Though, I might just not recognize—it's been a while... I still remember sometimes. Or, they could just be dreams, I suppose."

"Everything seems like a dream now, being here. Running and hiding. As if it were all in our heads."

"Mmm, hmm...сестра," Ivan's voice was slightly muffled, but Arthur was sure Ivan using a rather childlike voice. "I'm tired, сестра. Wake me up from this dream."

"Ivan? Ivan? Who are you talking about? Hello?"

He wouldn't get an answer out of his companion, for the older of the two was fast asleep now. Appearing both calm and restless in his sleep, leaving the younger to contemplate deeply on previous events, and on things that could be yet to come.

It seemed like only a few minutes, but Ivan had actually slept on for hours on hours—his body turning on its natural instincts to protect and instead focusing its attention on all the sleeping hours he had missed over the years. And when he awoke, he couldn't help but feel numb—though a  _pleasant_ numb. A soft, warm numb which gave him a sense of security.

That is, before he was brought back to reality.

"You're awake now, I see," Arthur started off ever so innocently enough. "You know you bloody scared me. I thought you were...I don't know! That something happened!"

Ivan was confused. "How long was I asleep."

Arthur mumbled something, but the taller teen couldn't quite hear it.

"Huh?"

"Four hours."

"No. H-how? No. I _wouldn't_."

"I know  _you_  wouldn't. But you've been on overdrive for a long while, so I'm sure your body would."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I called out your name, and shook you a few times—I did  _try."_

Now, Ivan had shut his mouth and only nodded to what Arthur was saying. It wasn't the Brit's fault, it was his. He was the one who fell asleep. He was the one who asked so... _weak_. And he was pretty glad that nothing had happened to them while he slept—calling Arthur suspicious now was  _out_  of the question. He could have taken his chance when Ivan was asleep. He could have wiped him off the face of the planet, or expose their hideout to authorities on the outside.

But, he didn't.

Right?

Ivan was pretty sure he didn't. Pretty, sure. Right?

Arthur didn't betray him, right?

"Did you go outside while I slept?"

"No. That would be careless. If I got myself captured, I would only have myself to blame, you know."

"Yes. But I-"

"You overslept—by your standards, of course. We're still alive, Ivan. Don't blame yourself for things that haven't even happened."

"You make too much sense."

"And, that's bad?"

"Maybe."

Arthur snorted at the two-syllable reply, continued his activity of  _re-re-rer_ eading Detective In Togas. It became quiet, yet a third time, but there wasn't a trace of malicious intentions in this uncommunicative time period, but instead a relieving span of time where both figuratively took in deep breaths, wondering why they had tried talking at all when clearly their minds told them they were lacking in skill and vocabulary for the deed.

It was safer this way. Both had concluded secretly, and so, they didn't speak, but held their tongues in the vast darkness of the room.

Much later on, however, curiosity grew on them from this span of silence, and each wondered if the other was asleep—of course, neither was, but they didn't know that.

Ivan, was actually the first to speak, with a casual: "Hey, Arthur." to which the Brit responded.

"Hmm?"

"You awake?"

"Mmm, yeah."

"Oh."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No. Just...surprised."

"Okay," he replied. "...um, Ivan."

"Yes."

"What does  _сестра_  mean?"

Ivan looked surprised. "Where did you hear that word?"

"From you," the shorter of the two answered. "I think you were talking in your sleep, because you were calling out to сестра—whoever that is or whatever that means. You said you were...tired."

"Tired? I...сестра means sister."

"So, you were sleep talking about your sister?"

"No! I don't know. I...I wasn't dreaming about her. I didn't dream at all."

"Really? Are you positive?"

"Yes. I believe so."

"Then I believe you." Arthur stated as a matter of factly. And with that, he sat up and got off the his cot, making his way to Ivan's—in which, during this time, the taller male sat up and watched him come forth.

"I'm sorry if I've been unsettling, Arthur." Ivan apologized. "My memories are... They are..."

"They are the  _past_. You're not there anymore," Arthur said sternly. "You shouldn't be haunted by them—I won't allow it."

"But-"

" _But_ , it doesn't really matter now, does it," Arthur with one hand reaching out to the older male. "Come on, Ivan—we've got a whole day ahead of us."

With slight hesitation, Ivan took the hand and got up off his own cot, following his friend towards the steel door.

And the two stepped out the door, wondering what their life had in store for them now.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: The city name is fictional, and is not a word in any language as far as a know of..


End file.
